Sliding into Place
by Magi Silverwolf
Summary: Sometimes finding where you are supposed to be is as easy as just sliding into place.


**Disclaimer:** I do not own the original canon nor am I making any profit from writing this piece. All works are accredited to their original authors, performers, and producers while this piece is mine. No copyright infringement is intended. I acknowledge that all views and opinions expressed herein are merely my interpretations of the characters and situations found within the original canon and may not reflect the views and opinions of the original author(s), producer(s), and/or other people.

 **Warnings:** This story may contain material that is not suitable for all audiences and may offend some readers.

 **Author's Note(s):** I like using competition pieces as excuses to play with headcanons.

 ** **Project Note:** **This was previously posted in _Stories That Go Nowhere_ , due to time constraints. It is reposted on its own after being reviewed and formatting updated.

 **Competition/Challenge Block** :  
 **House** : Gryffindor  
 **Subject [Task No.]** : Career Advice (Unpopular Careers) [Task 01: Entering a Career]  
 **Prompt(s)** : Wandmaker  
 **Note(s)** : Extra Credit (Harry as a Wandmaker); Early Credit (within first week of Assignment)  
 **Word Count** : 702 (Story Only); xx (Story & Epigraph)

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Sliding into Place  
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"Sometimes it's the smallest decisions that can change your life forever." – Keri Russell  
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Everyone expected him to become an Auror or the like. Harry thought he understood why. He had been the one to tell Professor McGonagall that he was only good at two things: Quidditch and Defense. That only left quidditch star or somewhere in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. With his personal history as the Boy-Who-Lived, it really was just a matter of course to shunt him towards the Aurors. After the row between McGonagall and Umbridge, Harry almost went along with it for the combination of not disappointing McGonagall and thumbing his nose at Umbridge. It would have been easier, requiring no explanation and garnering no sighs of disappointment from various people.

Like many things in his life, Harry's journey to where he was now started with him overhearing something that made him investigate. This particular case was two harried witches complaining about the unpredictable shop hours being kept by Ollivander's wand shop. At loose ends since the rebuilding of Hogwarts had been completed and already in Diagon Alley for something else, Harry had simply added a quick check-in on the old wandmaker to his itinerary. That one trip became a daily visit.

It didn't take long before Harry was lending Garrick a hand around the shop, both in the front and in the back. They needed to make trips occasionally—for supplies and surprisingly a conference of sorts for wandmakers. Harry followed after the aging wizard, having no problem being no more than a gopher at first. It was actually nice to not be expected to solve every problem on his own without necessary information. Garrick loved to talk about the wands he made, and each one was discussed like it was a child. Harry could see why he remembered every wand he ever sold—after all, parents didn't forget their children.

Harry couldn't pinpoint the moment he had decided to become a wandmaker. It never felt like a decision. He slid into it like a comfortable dressing gown at the end of a long day. He didn't have to fight anything aside from peevish bowtruckles and his knack with soothing creatures brought in a slew of new core potentials. Harry loved it; and he loved watching the wands pick their partners. It was everything he thought magic was going to be back when he was a firstie trailing behind Hagrid.

A year after the Final Battle, Harry's life had fallen into a pattern. He studied wand lore and craft under Garrick Ollivander during most of the week. Every Friday night he went to at least one pub with Neville and whoever they could gather of the former DA. If Luna was in town (an increasingly rare thing as she progressed through her magizoology studies from book work to the field), then Saturday was spent having an adventure somewhere in the Isles. Sunday meant brunch at the Weasleys and dinner at Andromeda's with her and Teddy.

It wasn't the life people imagined for him—fast-tracking through the DMLE, and maybe a youngest department head title to match his youngest seeker in a century one. It wasn't falling into a relationship with Ginny, carrying on the image legacy of his parents and buying a family in the process. (It had taken an embarrassingly long while, but Harry understood eventually that he was welcomed without dating a Weasley.) Harry had no interest in fighting anymore, not when Garrick had showed him another way to save people. His wands were already going out into the world to do wondrous things. It may not be what people had expected, but it was a good life to have.

"Are you happy, Harry?" Hermione asked one day when they had each found a quiet moment during the chaos of a Weasley brunch. Her brown eyes were anxiously searching his face like she usually did when worried that he would run off to pick a fight with Malfoy or Snape. Harry gave her a reassuring smile that didn't feel hollow like it had those last few years at Hogwarts.

"Yeah, actually," he returned, meaning it with more of himself than he thought he ever could. "It's like coming home after being lost. I'm brilliant, Hermione, simply brilliant."

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An Ending  
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End file.
